Give Up The Fight
by droppedmysonic
Summary: Originally posted to GKM. Finn/Kurt future!fic and it is full of melodrama and angst, and I don't even like it anymore, but people raved about it and asked me to post it so here it is. Finn comes back from a combat tour broken.


Finn wakes up sweating and gasping for air on the plane. He's had the dream again. At least he wasn't screaming any more. It would be utterly embarrassing to scream like a little girl around so many people. And that was how he'd been screaming for the longest time. It was one of the reasons he was on this plane.

Near the end of his second combat tour, they'd recommended he see a psychologist to be evaluated for post-traumatic stress disorder. The doctor had tried to evaluate him, but Finn was less than responsive. He didn't want to talk about the incident or anything else. The doctor had told Finn something about acute stress disorder, telling him that since it had only been a few weeks since the incident, he couldn't be diagnosed with PTSD yet, but he'd still be receiving convalescent leave for the next month, with orders to see another psychologist shortly before the end of said month. If the psychologist diagnosed him with PTSD, he'd be able to apply for an extension of his leave, and considering the circumstances, they might honorably discharge him.

One month ago, if Finn had heard the term "discharge" in any context, he would have been really pissed. He couldn't bring himself to care this time. He remembered why he'd enlisted in the Army – to carry on his father's legacy. His mother was terrified for him and had tried to stop him, but Finn was determined to do it. And besides, Puck would be there with him, wouldn't he? Nothing could happen to them if they were together.

Finn doesn't want to think about Puck. He doesn't want to think about the dog tags he'd have to give to Rachel later or what he was going to tell her. He doesn't want to think about that explosive he'd found in the abandoned building their unit was hiding in or how Puck hadn't heard him shout to get down. He doesn't want to think about the cruel piece of shrapnel that went flying, slicing his arm half way to the bone. Or the other piece that ripped Puck's torso open and the screaming that he heard moments later, the screaming he still heard whenever he closed his eyes. He doesn't want to think about his screaming either, and the way his throat felt like it was torn open as he kept screaming for a medic that never came. He doesn't want to think about the way Puck's intestines spilled out as he screamed, and how he had tried to hold them in, covered in both their blood. He doesn't want to think about the moment when Puck went quiet and whispered his last words in Finn's ear, and then the look on his face as he finally exhaled for the last time, and how shaky and reluctant that last breath was.

He doesn't want to think about it at all, and who can blame him?

The plane lands and Burt and Carole are there waiting. Finn wonders briefly where Kurt is, but Burt and Carole are already talking about the welcome home party they have planned for him. He plasters on the automatic smile he has for situations like this and nods his head when it seems appropriate.

"Are you okay?" his mother asks eventually.

Finn nods his head again and his mother resumes babbling about the party. Finn goes back to thinking about how he never should have enlisted in the first place. He was tempting fate by doing that, and now look what he'd done. He'd chosen to play Russian roulette with his destiny and now he was the one who had to live with the consequences.

Well, so did Rachel, of course. When she had left him again for Puck, he'd been pissed. He'd been furious, actually, that Puck just couldn't keep his hands to himself. But when it turned into a deep, profound love, Finn just couldn't be angry. He didn't think twice about agreeing to be Puck's best man at the hastily arranged wedding – he wanted to marry her before he left for Iraq. Two weeks later, they were on their way to that hellhole. A year later, they returned tired, closer than ever, but carrying a tacit agreement not to speak of what they'd seen in that war-worn country.

Before they knew it, they were being sent out again, this time to Afghanistan. And it was worse – so much worse. Especially considering the current circumstances.

When Finn shows up on the doorstep, Rachel takes her time answering the door. She is crying heavily. Finn can't help but notice how much more terrible she looks when crying real tears. Then he notices how swollen her stomach looks and how protectively she holds it and he has never wished he'd been the one to die more.

"He didn't tell anyone," Finn says, his voice wavering.

"He didn't know. I was going to surprise him when he came home," Rachel begins sobbing. Finn wants to hug her, but he isn't sure if this is the right thing to do. He does the math in his head and figures it must have been that short leave about six months ago. He reaches into his pocket and the metal he feels there sends a shock through his nervous system. He takes the tags out and practically throws them at Rachel, who doen't seem to notice and cling to the things like a lifeline.

Finn starts to feel nauseous. He stares at his feet while Rachel stares at the tags. "Is it a boy or a girl?" he asks, for lack of things to say.

"His name is going to be Noah," Rachel chokes out, smiling despite the tears. "I thought it'd be nice."

Finn doesn't want to hear that name. He quickly makes excuses for himself and goes "home". If that is what he is supposed to call it.

What is left of his old friends are there – that is, Artie, Tina, and Becky, the autistic girl. She runs up to him for a hug and he's admittedly touched by this gesture. Tina and Artie are having an awkward moment – in junior year, they broke up and Tina started dating Mike. They're still dating long distance, Finn thinks.

His mother is spouting some nonsense about "isn't this fun" and Finn doesn't hear her. He tries to pretend he's having fun, but the only person enjoying herself is Becky, and that does genuine pleases Finn a little. It's the only real good feeling he's had in two years.

When she asks where Puck is, he suddenly loses the good feeling and wants to lose his lunch. He plasters on that automatic smile again but he knows he can't stay here much longer and on a whim, he asks Burt where his son is. This opens floodgates and Carole and Burt are spewing about how he's got a lead role in some play with some semi-professional theater troupe in Philadelphia and how proud they are of him.

Finn wonders why his mother isn't proud of him.

That night, he decides to leave. He's been making an awful lot of rash decisions these days and this is one of them. He's quietly scanning the things in the public rooms of the house, trying to memorize the place that used to be home and alights on a flier. It's the playhouse, Finn assumes, that Kurt will be performing at, since there's no other reason to have a flier for a Philadelphia playhouse.

He's in his old car heading east before he knows it. He knows he's speeding and doesn't care and he's not quite sure why he's heading towards Kurt but it's a better idea than staying here. It's almost 600 miles, his phone informs him coldly, and since it's one in the morning, he'll be driving all night.

That's fine with him. Until it's six in the morning and he's just past DuBois. He's drifting off the road and a lone police officer pulls him over. He tries to explain the situation but sounds drunk and the police officer asks him to get out of the car and do a breathalyzer. "I'm just tired," Finn mumbles when the police officer stares at the breathalyzer that must be malfunctioning. The sunlight catches on Finn's dogtags and the police officer notices them and seems to put two and two together, connecting the disjointed tale Finn has told him and the tags. He tells Finn to pull over and rest a while. Finn refuses, and the officer tells him to wait a few moments. He speaks into his radio.

"You'll have a police escort all the way to Philly..." he's waiting for Finn to supply his name.

"Finn Hudson, United States Infantry, Corporal," Finn recites tiredly, too tired to remember he need not supply all that information. He's about to drop dead on the highway.

The policeman smiles. Finn's suddenly grateful to this cop, who, other than Becky, is the only one to show him sincere kidness.

"Let's get you on the road, Corporal," he says, helping Finn back into the car. Finn can't really remember the next four hours but he's stopped outside the Chestnut Street Opera House and is staring at it, wondering why he's here again. The old police officer who's been accompanying him through the city has left.

Ten o'clock in the morning in a strange city and he has no idea what he's looking for here. He decides to enter the place in the hopes that maybe, somehow, Kurt is here, and he's not sure what he'll do if he's not. As he's getting out of the car, he almost wants to cry at the fantastic coincidence of Kurt Hummel pulling up to the curb and stepping out of his own vehicle. Finn tries to say something but can't and is intensely grateful that Kurt spots him moments later and rushes over to him. His mouth is open and is about to start babbling like his mother had but he freezes, studying Finn's face.

"You look like hell," he says bluntly.

"I spent a couple years there. It must have rubbed off on me," Finn says. It's the most he's said in one breath in a while. Kurt takes him by the elbow and leads him inside.

"I want you to sit down and rest during this rehearsal. It shouldn't be very long today and I'll try to get out early," Kurt whispers to him, sitting him down in one of the seats. They're sort of comfortable. Finn's dozing off before he knows it.

Then he's seeing blood and he's screaming again. Kurt is shaking him awake and Finn is holding onto his arms with a death-grip. Kurt is saying something to a concerned looking man and leading him out of the theater and Finn winces at the bright sunlight burning his eyes. He's ushered into Kurt's car and he's not sure how much time has passed when they pull up outside a decent apartment building.

A woman is holding the door open for them. "Not your usual type, kid," she says, and Kurt's explaining that they are stepbrothers and the woman is nodding and speedwalking to the elevator to stab repeatedly at the "up" button.

Finn's still not saying a word and Kurt looks worried. Finn wants to tell him it's a normal thing these days and not to look so freaked out but he's too tired to open his mouth and too terrified of what might happen to close his eyes. He hears Kurt on the phone, something about "I don't know" and "I'll keep an eye on him" and Finn closes his eyes anyway.

It's 10 pm when he wakes up and he's not screaming but he's had the nightmare again. His reaction is like the one he had on the plane – sweating, nervousness. He's not sure where he is but he remembers Kurt driving him somewhere.

A woman reading a tattered paperback is in the corner. He swallows around the lump in his dry throat and tries to say something. It comes out as an awkward noise. The woman jumps about four feet and clasps her book to her chest.

"You scared the shit out of me," she gasps. "Kurt will be back in..." she peers at the clock on the table next to her. "Well, any minute now, I guess. If you want something feel free to go looking for it or I'll go get it for you," she says. "By the way, I'm Ann. I'm Kurt's roommate and on-stage sister."

Finn shakes his head and stares at the ceiling. "Ann" goes back to reading. They stay like this for about ten minutes. It's kind of nice to be in the room with another human being who isn't expecting him to fill a forced, awkward silence.

"Is he awake yet?" Kurt's voice surprises him; he jumps. "I'll take that as a yes," he says, entering the room fully. "I take it you've had a shit time of it lately?"

Finn nods, still not wanting to speak. Kurt asks if he wants food or anything and when Finn says no, tells him where the kitchen is in case he changes his mind. He and Ana go out to watch a movie, apparently the one their current play is based on.

Half an hour later, Finn changes his mind. He navigates his way to the kitchen. Ann and Kurt look at him briefly before turning back to the movie, which looks incredibly dark and features singing. Finn casts a dubious look at it before examining the contents of the kitchen. He can't really find anything he wants and peers out into the living room to ask if there's any cereal or crackers anywhere.

He freezes, watching the scene on the TV in all its bloody, high-definition glory. A man is sawing another man's abdomen open with a scalpel and Finn does not like what it reminds him of, but he cannot look away. The next shot is red – all red, and it looks incredibly fake, but he still starts to panic. He's hyperventilating and Kurt turns to look at him with concern.

The man starts ripping out the other's innards and Finn grasps the wall, yelling at them to turn it off. Anne is looking for the remote when the intestines begin coming out and Finn lets out an animalistic scream. The last thing he sees before squeezing his eyes shut, collapsing to his knees, and clamping his hands over his ears is Kurt diving for the TV and turning it off manually. He's not sure but he thinks he's still screaming when he feels arms gathering him up, wrapping him in a blanket. Or maybe he's not. Maybe the screaming is on the inside. The arms are gently rocking him and a hand strokes his head softly. He waits, clinging to something. He's not sure what it is. A bottle is gently pressed to his mouth and he takes a sip without thinking.

It's alcohol, and it burns going down. He drinks some more, reasoning that drunk is better than screaming mass of nerves. He's able to open his eyes now but he doesn't really see.

"Finn?" Kurt's soft voice is gently pulling at the corners of the fuzzy gray stupor Finn has been pulling over himself. "What do you want me to do?"

Finn's grateful that he didn't ask if he was okay. He's tired of that question and he's relieved that Kurt has perceived he's obviously not okay. He shakes his head, unable to vocalize what he wants. He can't even decide what he wants, so Kurt decides for him. His stepbrother disentangles himself and pulls Finn to his feet, gently leading him to the same bed he was in earlier. He pushes Finn onto it and pulls a blanket over him. He starts to leave but Finn grabs onto his hand.

"I don't want to be alone," is all he says.

Kurt searches his face. He can't read the story in the lines of agony that are etched there, but he can't bring himself to leave. He crawls into the bed next to Finn and wraps his arms around him. Finn relaxes very slightly and Kurt just shakes his head. There is a soft noise as Ann pads into the room, asking about the movie. "Watch it without me," Kurt says. "I've seen it half a dozen times anyway."

When he wakes up, he's in the throes of the nightmare and Kurt has woken him up. He's still talking frantically. "So much blood, it's everywhere, please stop bleeding. I can't stop it. I can't stop the bleeding..." Kurt's cradling his head, making some sort of soft noise.

When Finn suddenly realizes he's in a bed, not sitting on blood-soaked ground, he tries to tune in to what Kurt is saying. He realizes that it's not speech, but song.

"Don't know what I was looking for when I went home. I found me alone, and sometimes I need someone to say, 'you'll be alright. What's on your mind?' But the water's shallow here and I am full of fear and empty-handed after two long years. Another sunny day in Californ-i-a; I'm sure back home they'd love to see it, but they don't know that what you love is ripped away before you get a chance to feel it. Back home I always thought I wanted so much more. Now, I'm not too sure, 'cause sometimes I miss knowing someone's there for me and feeling free: free to stand beside the ocean in moonlight and light myself a smoke beneath the dark Atlantic sky. Another sunny day in Californ-i-a; I'm sure back home they'd love to see it, but they don't know that what you love is ripped away before you get a chance to feel it. Everybody here is living life in fear of falling out of line, tearing lives apart and breaking lots of hearts just to pass the time, and the eyes get red in the back of your head. This place will make you blind. Put it all behind me and I'll be just fine... Another sunny day beneath this cloudless sky. Sometimes I wish that it would rain here and wash away the west coast dreaming from my eyes. There's nothing real for them to see here. Another starry night in Californ-i-a. I'm sure back home they'd love to see it, but they don't know that what you love is ripped away before you get a chance... Before you get a chance to feel it..."

By the end of the song, Finn is laying back down and Kurt's sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. Neither of them knows what to say next. Finn knows what Kurt is saying; that he understands his pain, but also that he never quite got over Finn.

Kurt leaves the room and Finn is left staring at the white ceiling.

Finn wakes up with his usual anxiety and wanders out of the room. He still feels awkward. He's not sure if he'll ever feel at home again, no matter where he is.

Kurt is helping Ann with some weird outfit that seems to consist mainly of leather straps. Despite the fact that she is, at the moment, topless, she makes no effort to cover herself when Finn enters the room. Kurt's wearing only boxers and Finn is confused at the sight he is confronted with. Ann points at him with her chin and Kurt looks over his shoulder. "It's going to be her costume for the play," he explains. "She's playing Amber Sweet. I'm Pavi Largo."

Finn doesn't really care but he nods mechanically as though he does. Kurt bites his lip. "I didn't know you were coming, and I kind of had a cast party planned – we open in a week and we decided to celebrate pre-opening. You can come if you want; a lot of people are bringing friends, but I didn't know if you were up to it..."

"I'll find something to do," Finn says. "Can you drive me to go get my car?"

"I had Ann bring it back this morning for you. I hope you don't mind," Kurt says anxiously. He doesn't, and thanks her. He can't bring himself to stop staring at her breasts and she doesn't seem to notice or care. His eyes also keep drifting to Kurt and he keeps telling himself that not only is that his friend but his stepbrother.

He remembers the exact moment he became completely okay with gay men. You kind of stop caring who people want to have sex with when all that's between you and the enemy is a "faggot" holding a machine gun. And that's happened before. He remembers how he found out the man was gay. He ran into him crying one day. His long time partner had died of AIDS. He'd just gotten the letter, even though the funeral had been last month. The other men in his unit were more understanding than expected. The man remained with them until their commanding officer found out and had him discharged under DADT.

He wonders momentarily how the man is doing, then asks Kurt if he can shower. Kurt mumbles something about taking a shower and getting back into dirty clothes, but agrees readily enough. When Finn's done, he asks for his keys. He's got a good amount of cash sitting in a bank account since he hasn't been around stores to buy things since before his first tour, and he figures he should go buy some clothes somewhere before Kurt gets tired of being tactful and starts nagging him to wear something other than the dirty white v-neck and khaki pants he's been wearing since he can't remember when. He gets the apartment's address from Kurt so he can find his way back and leaves.

He drives around for hours looking for a mall or department store. He passes half a dozen before he decides to park. He doesn't mind the driving. It occupies his mind. He knows Kurt will probably roll his eyes at his choices, but he grabs a stack of black t-shirts, another of white, and an armful of "boring" pants – khakis, plain jeans. He checks to make sure they fit and buys them. He throws the bags into his car, grabs a shirt and pants, and changes into them in a gas station bathroom he stops at to refill his tank. It's only five and he's pretty sure that the party isn't over at Kurt's. Most likely, it hasn't even started.

Finn sighs and resumes drives around. He considers pulling into the movie theater he passes but he doesn't know any of the movies playing. He eventually pulls into a fast food restaurant and spends several hours staring out the window, nursing cold, greasy food that he's barely touched. At nine, after the employees have started to become uneasy, he leaves. He figures he can slip in unnoticed at Kurt's place and go hide in a corner. He programs the address into the phone and glares at it when he realizes he's less than ten minutes away.

He takes his time driving, taking several wrong turns on purpose. Finn was never huge on parties, but he absolutely hates them now. He hates doing nothing more, though. This wandering around trying to occupy his mind is pointless. Maybe at this party they'll be playing the music loud enough that it will do the job for him.

He turns the corner and realizes soon enough that they're definitely playing the music loud enough to drown out just about anything short of a few kilograms worth of TNT going off in the parking lot. Finn wonders why no one in the apartments is calling the police and as he navigates through the crowded halls he realizes that the party has evidently spilled out into the rest of the building.

Despite his time in the Army, Finn is still a small-town boy at heart and is completely taken aback by the dancing. He's not sure what it is exactly, but if there were two to six layers of clothing less between most of these people, they'd be having very rough, kinky sex. He's torn between watching and running away and he feels like he did the first time he encountered porn at the ripe young age of eleven. The internet is truly a miraculous thing.

He decides the best thing to do is go check the kitchen for beer and then come back to this decision. Ann is in there, wearing clothes this time, pouring drinks. She looks remarkably calm. "What is going on?" Finn mouths to her.

She looks at him and takes out her phone. "I can't understand you," she types and hands the phone to him. He types the question out and hands it back to her.

She laughs to herself. "Things get out of hand when Kurt's involved. I like to sit in the background and just keep things to a dull roar," is what Finn reads.

He's finding himself kind of interested in her until she introduces the girl who's just walked in as her longtime girlfriend. That curbs his interest quickly enough and he wonders if gay guys and lesbians are like magnets. Opposites attract, or something. He accepts a large cup of something from Ann and walks out to the living room, which has essentially become something of a strip club meets high school dance. He sits down on the couch, which is shoved into a corner and sips at the drink he holds. He's relieved to discover it's just regular beer. The music playing has an annoying beat; he can't understand the lyrics, and the dancing is starting to look downright disgusting and animalistic.

Finn spends a full half hour refusing lap dances from assorted people, guys included. He has to forcibly push one girl off of him and she gives him a dirty look before finding a more receptive guy to grind with. He wonders briefly who has control of the music, because they obviously have no taste, and goes back to the kitchen for another drink. Ann is "busy" with her girlfriend in the corner and Finn resists the urge to stand and stare, grabbing a drink and exiting as fast as he can. He practically runs Kurt over as he's leaving. Kurt's yelling something about the song that's playing and Ann disentangles herself from the other girl to yell something about David having the music, and then Kurt wants to know why David's here, and... well, Finn's getting a headache from the yelling and he leaves while they're still arguing. Ann's girlfriend is hunched over, laughing uncontrollably at them. She's either drunk or easily amused.

Finn's weaving his way through the crowd back to his seat to find it occupied, and he hopes it hadn't ever been occupied quite like that before he sat on it. He stops to marvel at how much Kurt has evidently changed since the last time they've talked and begins to thread his way through the crowd again, looking for another place to sit down.

He should have known this was coming.

He should have known it was unavoidable that at some point tonight, he would end up seeing Kurt dancing like a whore with another guy. At first he's just weirded out, but that stage lasts for about five seconds before he gets angry. He tells himself it's because Kurt's his stepbrother and it's his job to protect him still when he shoulder checks the guy as he pushes past, giving him a death glare. He wanders out into the hallway, figuring that he can at least sit on the floor out there while the walls do a poor job of muffling the atrocious dance music.

The atrocious dance music intensifies a few minutes later as someone opens the door, steps out, and closes it. "Kurt's having a bitch fit, saying that if you were pissed that he was dancing like that with someone, you should have done it first," Ann says matter-of-factly.

Finn's about to punch the wall, because he and Kurt have been over this a thousand times. Maybe more, and he tells Ann this.

"Over what?" she asks. He explains how they came to live together in high school. He glares at her accusingly when she stifles laughter with her hand. "Sorry," she says. "It's just – that's quintessential Kurt, and you of all people should know that he doesn't give up until he gets his way though sheer force of will. Or blackmail," she adds as an afterthought. "Or bitching like a preteen girl PMSing, or pretending to cry, or actually crying... He's just really good at getting what he wants," she finishes.

"Well, I obviously wish he didn't want me," Finn sighs. "Not like that, at least. I love having him as a friend, even as a brother, but... Yeah. I'm really not gay."

Ann is studying him with the look Finn is starting to recognize as the one she uses when she's thinking hard and trying to decide something. "Do you want to know my opinion on the matter?"

Finn shrugs.

"Well, I'm not exactly forthcoming with my sexuality when I first meet people. And the average guy or girl doesn't figure it out until I tell him or her. But Kurt, and my girlfriend, and all of his exes saw it immediately. And I see it in all of them.

"We even see it in people who don't see it in themselves yet," she finishes, still fixing him with that look. "Are you following?"

Finn thinks he is and he's not too happy about what she's implying. "You're telling me you think I'm gay?"

"Well, maybe not that so much as..." she's struggling for words. "I know Kurt and I know he's very rarely wrong about these things. And I know his attention span is too short to spend... how long has it been? About four years? ...on a lost cause. Besides, you know he's an adult and it's none of your business who he dances with at this point unless you've got a personal interest in the matter," she says firmly.

She's got him there. The whole "stepbrother" argument is a really weak one when he looks at it. Protecting him from bullies is one thing. Protecting him from a manslut who doesn't give a crap about him is different. He wonders if he actually just thought that as Ann opens the door.

"Were you trying to eavesdrop?" she asks coolly.

Kurt's voice, obviously drunk at this point, comes through the open door. "No," he says defensively.

"Yes, you were, and you failed utterly because the music is too loud."

"Okay, okay, you caught me." Ann leads him back in, shouting something about rehab, which leads into Kurt beginning an impressive rendition of Amy Winehouse's song Rehab. Impressive because even when totally drunk, he can remain on-key. The loud part, Finn expected. He starts to think back to their Glee days when Vocal Adrenaline performed that song, and wonders whatever happened to the rest of the members of the club. He hasn't heard from most of them in a long time and he can't remember what they were doing when they left Lima. He actively ignores the fact that Puck was in Glee so it doesn't hurt too much to think about.

He stays out there until about four in the morning when the music shuts off. People start loudly spilling out the door. As the rush slows to a trickle, he can hear Ann yelling. The next thing he sees is her brandishing, of all things, a pair of nunchucks, threatening to split someone's head open if they don't leave and let her sleep. Finn decides to leave that one alone. He stands up and walks past her into the apartment. He stops halfway to the couch to pick someone up by the collar of their shirt and lead them to the door. Ann shoots him a grateful smile and they begin putting the furniture back together. Her nunchucks are slung around her neck.

"Okay, I have to ask," Finn says, pointing at them.

She laughs and begins to explain. "When I first started with theater at the ripe young age of twelve, someone told me I'd have a really hard time of it without dance lessons. I tried for about two years before I realized I sucked at tap, ballet, jazz, hip-hop, and just about everything else they tried to teach me. About that time, I got mugged and decided to take self-defense lessons. Those stuck. They stuck very well, and they also helped ridiculously with dancing. I'm still not that great at it, but I am the undisputed number one actress in stage combat in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. I can use or learn just about any weapon and have two black belts," she says proudly.

Finn is admittedly impressed. It's hard not to be impressed with anyone who is well-trained in hand to hand combat. "Where's Kurt?" he asks.

Ann rolls her eyes. "Passed out on the floor. As usual. He doesn't drink that often, but when he does, he doesn't stop until he nearly drowns in his own puke. Which I make him clean up himself when he wakes up to try to teach him a lesson." Finn makes a slight face at the word "puke".

When they've managed to get the apartment halfway normal looking and Ann announces that she's tired and giving up until tomorrow, Finn asks her where he should sleep. She's slightly stumped. She peers into the bedroom. "Take Kurt's bed. He's not going to be in any mood to get off that floor until dinner tomorrow." Finn shrugs. He briefly wonders if he should have bought something to sleep in. And underwear, for that matter. He makes a mental note to buy some of that stuff and crawls into Kurt's bed.

He wakes up with the vague anxiety he's learned is an indication that he had the dream, as usual, but just didn't wake up during it. It's utterly exasperating. Finn peers around, looking for a clock and has to do a double take when he sees the time. It's past noon, and he's still exhausted. He shakes his head as he gets up and walks out into the living room. Ann is watching cartoons and eating cereal. He asks where the cereal is found and pours himself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. He sits at the small kitchen table and stares at the wall as he eats them mechanically, not thinking about anything. When he is finished, he rinses the bowl out and returns to staring at the wall until Kurt stumbles out into the kitchen, clutching his head, moaning about the light and noise. Ann pointedly turns up the TV. Kurt just grumbles louder and slumps down at the table next to Finn.

"Enooet mehsa azbin?"

His speech is so muffled by his face being plastered to the table that Finn can't understand it. "What?"

Kurt raises his head a few inches and shouts exasperatedly, "CAN YOU GET ME SOME ASPIRIN. JEEZ." There's a thud as he reapplies his head to the table.

Ann yells from the living room. "He doesn't know where the aspirin are, so no, he can't. And don't bother telling him, because I hid the aspirin last night so you'd have to suffer through the consequences of your little bacchanal last night. By the way, there's approximately five puddles of vomit in various locations around the apartment that are yours to clean up. I wasn't sure if all of it actually belonged to you, but oh well."

Kurt's grumbling about unbearable roommates as Finn feels uncomfortably like a child caught in between two fighting parents. He carefully removes himself from the table, mumbling something about going to buy underwear and Kurt mumbles something that sounds like "okay whatever," except it's completely unintelligible.

Finn returns to the store he was at last night and buys a few packages of underwear and some flannel pants. Sleeping in jeans is actually really uncomfortable, and he's slept in some of the most uncomfortable locations one can imagine. He doesn't feel like stalling today, and since there's presumably no loud, drunken party waiting at Kurt's apartment, he doesn't feel the need to.

Until he gets there. Ann and Kurt are arguing at the top of their lungs. He tunes them out at first but when he hears a loud slap, he turns around. Ann is staring at Kurt with a stunned expression on her face, cradling her cheek. Finn is appalled. He's about to lecture Kurt about hitting women, which is something he firmly believes a man should never do, no matter how feminine the man is when Ann takes matters into her own hands.

"How dare you?" she screeches, snatching Kurt's arm and twisting it viciously. He shrieks with pain and scrabbles at her hand. She continues screaming at him as Kurt is trying to break loose and Finn is wondering if he should step in before someone gets seriously hurt before Ann shoves Kurt and storms out.

There's an awkward silence before Finn works up the nerve to ask, "Does that happen often?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Kurt says wryly, rubbing his arm. "Well, the screaming does. I've never lost my temper and hit her before. I should apologize when she gets back."

"Is she going to come back?" Finn asks.

Kurt holds up a finger and watches the clock. After a few moments of silence, he begins counting. "Five, four, three, two, one..."

Right on cue, the door opens. "Kurt?"

Kurt leaps up and tackles Ann with a hug. "I'm sorry I hit you. That was awful of me."

"I'm sorry I pinned you. Those pins hurt like a bitch." They're hugging each other and chattering about how awful they were and how stupid the fight was.

Finn wonders if they're both mentally stable. They stroll in arm-in-arm, discussing dinner and whether or not they want to watch a movie later tonight.

"Finn? Do you have any preferences to what's on the menu?" Finn shakes his head, and again when they ask him about the movie. He ignores the glance the two exchange. He's used to the "he's being apathetic what do we do" glance. It's practically a constant in his life.

Ann and Kurt are gossiping amiably as they make dinner, talking about someone named "Sammy" and whether or not he's going to be okay to perform. From what Finn can gather, he's the male lead in the musical Kurt is in, playing a character called Nathan. Finn barely notices the food as he eats it and when Ann and Kurt start watching their movie, he doesn't know what it is. He watches the pictures move on the screen but doesn't follow the story. He dimly perceives that they're both crying their eyes out at one point and wonders if he should be feeling upset too. He doesn't.

When the movie is over, Ann leaves the apartment. Finn didn't hear the reason. He's still not paying attention to anything. At least, not until the remote hits him in the head.

"Pick something," Kurt says, watching him.

"I don't want to watch anything," Finn says, not even bothering to get angry.

"Figures," Kurt scoffs. "You can't act like this forever, you know," he says.

Finn replies, "Wanna bet?"

"Yeah, actually. I can probably snap you out of that apathy faster than you can sing the chorus to 'Seasons of Love'."

"I can't sing the chorus to 'Seasons of Love'. I don't think I even know that song."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "You were in Glee Club for two freakin' years and you don't know Rent?"

Finn shrugs.

Kurt leans forward. "Really, how much do you want to do this bet for?"

Finn throws up his hands. "I don't care. I didn't mean it literally."

"I'm taking it literally," Kurt says. He stands up, walks behind Finn, and leans over him. "If there's one thing that always pissed you off it was my hitting on you. I am not beneath resorting to tactics like that if it gets you to do something other than stare at walls until your eyes unfocus."

Finn sits there and stares at the wall until his eyes unfocus. He can hear Kurt getting huffy behind him, threatening all different kinds of things that would piss off anyone, including Gandhi. Finn ignores him.

"You realize I warned you multiple times, Finn?" Kurt comes around to the front of the couch, his face inches away from Finn's. Finn keeps staring with his eyes unfocused. When Kurt kisses him, he doesn't react in the slightest.

Kurt sits down in a huff. "Finn, do you realize what just happened?" Finn is unresponsive. "Okay, I'm really worried here. I suspect that pouring boiling water on you wouldn't have an effect at this point. That's an idea," he says, standing up and going to the kitchen. He hears Kurt running water and slamming a pot on the stove.

A few minutes later, Kurt is back with a pot of water, holding it over him. Finn's not staring at the wall unfocused anymore, but he's not saying anything either.

"Don't make me do this, Finn," Kurt says, locking eyes with his stepbrother. Finn holds the eye contact for a few moments, then looks away. "Fine," Kurt says. He tips the pot over. Finn watches the water fall and in the back of his mind, he knows he should be panicking, but he doesn't.

When the water hits him, he doesn't move, and is surprised to find that the water feels cold. Then he realizes the water is cold. He feels a little stupid for thinking that Kurt would really pour boiling water on him, and almost opens his mouth to yell at Kurt, but it just seems to exhausting and pointless.

Kurt flops on the floor, still holding the pot, running his fingers through his hair. "You. Are. Scaring. Me," he enunciates, staring at Finn, who is staring at a wall again. "And I really don't want to bring him up, but I will if I have to," he adds quietly.

This gets a small reaction out of Finn. "Don't," he says. There is a note of warning in his voice.

"Then talk to me. You can't keep this inside forever!" Kurt shouts. Of course, by this time, Finn is back to staring at the wall. Kurt seems at a loss for words for a few moments.

"You've got three choices," he says evenly. "One. I start talking about Puck." Finn winces at the name. "Two. I go out in that kitchen, get a knife, and start carving myself up like a Christmas turkey until you start caring."

"You wouldn't-" Finn starts.

"Three," Kurt says loudly over him, "you start talking." When Finn doesn't answer, he goes back to the kitchen. Finn can hear the sound of the pot falling into the sink and the silverware drawer crashing open and slamming shut.

"You're bluffing, just like before," Finn says calmly when Kurt comes back with the knife.

Kurt doesn't answer, just puts the knife to his forearm and drags it. The cut is shallow and probably won't even scar, but the thin line of blood oozing out of it makes Finn nauseous.

"Stop," Finn says quietly.

"You talk or the next one's deeper," Kurt says. There's a note of pain in his voice.

"You're sick," Finn says.

Kurt laughs. "You're not?" he asks. When Finn doesn't answer, Kurt puts the knife back to his arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Finn blurts out. "Normal people don't hurt themselves."

"Case in point," Kurt says. "But mostly because I know it hurts you more than it hurts me. I used to do this all the time and for much crappier reasons than this."

Finn is taken aback by what amounts to Kurt admitting he used to cut. He can't imagine Kurt doing anything that would risk scarring.

Kurt chuckles softly. "Sounds out of character, right? Well, appearances aren't always quite what they seem. If you remembered stuff that happened when you were drunk, you'd know that."

"What do you mean?" Finn asks.

Kurt just laughs. "Now you want to talk. Do you remember a single thing that happened the times you got drunk in high school?"

Finn shakes his head. He's able to hold his liquor better now and can recall events that happened while drunk, but in high school, this was not the case.

"I remember," Kurt says. "...I'm the only one who remembers now," he says quietly.

Finn does not like where this is going, but now he's curious. "Tell me," he sighs, knowing he's probably not going to like what he hears.

"You remember what happened just before you got drunk, right?" Kurt asks. Finn nods. "The first time you got majorly drunk, how far do you remember?"

"...He... brought over some beer – our parents weren't home, and we started drinking, and we told you to have some too because that was after we worked out most of the major issues and you didn't hate Puck anymore, and then things kind of just go fuzzy." He realizes he's just said the name he's been avoiding for over a month now. It just slipped out.

"You passed out. He suggested that we play a prank on you." Kurt is picking up the story where Finn left off. "It started off as your standard pranks that you pull on someone who's out of it – shaving cream, hand in warm water... but we were getting progressively more drunk. Or so I thought," he amends. "I found out later that he could hold alcohol much better than he pretended to."

"I don't get it," Finn says.

"Hold on," Kurt says. "I'm getting there." He looks kind of uneasy at this point. "I told him not to, but things got... inappropriate."

Finn's starting to understand what Kurt's getting at. "Are you telling me..."

"Maybe," Kurt says apologetically. "But it's not like you didn't have fun the times you weren't passed out," he offered.

"It happened more than once?" Finn yells.

"Yeah. And if it makes you feel better, I wasn't a big fan of it. And then after a while, he wouldn't even drink... I tried to tell you not to, but you always told me I was being prissy, and I didn't want to give you the real reason I didn't want you drinking..." Kurt finishes lamely, "and so I just turned the other way most of the times. Except the times I was a little past reasonable thought. He was... very persuasive."

Finn's eyes are wide. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again. "You're a liar," he says finally.

Kurt shakes his head. "Think about it."

Finn is shaking with anger. "You are a liar. He would never do that to me."

"Think about it," Kurt insists. "It's the only reason those disconnected little bits make sense. And I know there are disconnected little bits."

There are. Finn just rationalized the condoms he found, took it for granted that Kurt and Puck were getting along, and pretended to care when his relationships with girls ended, though he really didn't. Not much, at least.

But Finn is not ready to deal with this. He does not want to think about the way Puck died, but he wants to think about the possibility of having had gay sex with his aforementioned best friend even less. For the first time, he lets the memory play its way through, all the way to Puck's last words. He wrote it off that Puck didn't mention Rachel, but now it makes sense, and he hates himself for it. "I'm sorry," he'd said. "For every time I – we... but it's not like you..." he said. "There's something I never told you. And I'm sorry," he said. Finn had told him to stop apologizing. Whatever it was, he forgave him. "You promise?" Puck had asked. Finn promised. "Finn... you're my best friend. You've forgiven me for so much shit..." Finn had never thought he'd see Puck cry. "Finn, I love you."

Finn's eyes are wet and he's trying to hold back tears. "I promised him I forgave him," he says, taking a deep breath. He levels his eyes at Kurt. "But I never promised I'd forgive you."

Kurt looks at the floor. "Fair enough. I'm used to being the scapegoat," he says, throwing up his arms.

And then they're screaming. Something about this apartment must catalyze violent fighting because everything that has ever happened between them is spilling from their lips like razors, cutting both of them.

Finn's not sure who threw the first blow, but the fight gets physical quickly. He wonders in the back of his mind if they're going to kill each other, because Kurt is a lot tougher than he would have expected. Neither of them notice the door opening or Ann walking in. However, they have to notice when Ann dumps a large bucket of cold water on both of them. Finn has been soaked in cold water for the second time today and it snaps something in him. He goes after Ann now, who sidesteps him easily. This pisses him off more and he runs at her again. Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself on the floor. Belatedly he remembers her martial arts training. He hears an odd ripping noise and when she duct tapes his wrists together, he realizes what it is. Kurt is sitting miserably off to the side.

"Both of you get up," she snaps. Kurt obliges her immediately. Finn can't; his arms are tied. Ann sighs and hauls him up. She drags them both out to a car, her car presumably, and shoves them in the backseat together. "Like five year olds, I swear," she grumbles, starting the car. And they do act like five year olds, staring out the windows of the car, sitting as far away from one another as they can for the entire drive. It's getting dark outside and both of them wonder exactly where Ann is driving them.

She pulls to a stop at the foot of a small hill. She drags them up to the top of it and yanks the tape off of Finn. "I don't know what the hell's going on with you two, and I don't know how you normally act, Finn, but Kurt, you are being a royal bitch. Usually you're just a bitch," Ann spits. She pulls a gun out of her trunk.

"This is Sally," she says. "My paintball gun," she explains, noting the looks of apprehension on Kurt and Finn's faces. "You will shortly become much more acquainted with her if you start fighting again, because I'll use you two as target practice. Now sit here and talk it the hell out." She storms down the hill and sits cross-legged on the roof of her car, holding Sally.

It's getting cold and they're both still very damp from the bucket of water. Kurt yells down to Ann. "Can I at least have a blanket?" Her exasperated sigh is clearly audible. She yanks a blanket out of the trunk and deposits the blanket on top of Kurt's head.

"You two are going to be nice and share that," she says. After she's back down the hill, Finn takes a deep breath. He doesn't usually apologize, but it's a little necessary here.

"Are we going to be total idiots about this for an hour or are we going to just get it over with now?" he asks.

Kurt just glares at him.

"All we ever seem to do is get on each others' nerves," Finn exhales. "We're always yelling at each other and getting pissed, and then we get stubborn and won't apologize because we both think we're right. But neither of us is. We're both complete jerks. So I'm sorry," Finn says, looking Kurt straight in the eye. "I'm not apologizing for the way I've been behaving because I can't help it, but I apologize for what I said when we were fighting. It was uncalled for."

Kurt clears his throat. "I'm sorry, too," he says quietly. "I really shouldn't have pushed you."

"Yes, you should have," Finn replies. "I would have just sat on this for years if you didn't. Everyone else was all too ready to ignore it and make it someone else's problem. The Army sent me on leave, Burt and Carole didn't even try to get me to come back – I heard enough of the phone conversation to figure out that they shoved me off on you – well, you're just about the only person who's taken an active interest in my bullshit."

"It's not bullshit."

"Yes, it is, and I need to get the hell over it," Finn says. "I've been acting ridiculous."

"It's really cold out here," Kurt exclaims suddenly. "Sorry, but it is. Let's go tell Ann – where the hell is Ann?"

She's gone. Finn and Kurt stare at the place her car was a few minutes ago. "Don't suppose you were paying attention while she was driving?" Finn asks.

"I was too busy being pissed off and ignoring you," Kurt says.

"Same," Finn agrees. "So are we stuck here until she comes back?"

"Pretty much," Kurt says. "She probably planned this."

"Planned what?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "She's almost as bad as I am. Soak us in cold water, drive us to the middle of nowhere at night and leave us with only one blanket? You don't see where she was going with this?"

"Oh," Finn says. "She's worse than you. You never went this far."

Kurt nods. "Do we consent to her devious plan or do we freeze to death?"

Finn thinks it over for about five seconds before deciding that the devious plan is the much lesser evil of the two and scoots over next to Kurt.

"At the risk of sounding like I'm hitting on you again, it would probably be sensible for us also to take off the majority of our soaked clothing," Kurt says quietly. Finn pales.

"Well, uh, you see..." Finn begins.

"It's okay," Kurt interrupts. "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Finn shakes his head. "It's really not that. I'm just kind of not wearing underwear."

"WHAT?"

"Well, if you were listening and put two-and-two together this morning, you would know that I had only one pair and went to buy some this afternoon. And I figured I could go commando for one day with no ill effects. That'll teach me to assume things," Finn explains.

Kurt can't help laughing. "This is one of the most absurd situations I've dealt with in my life. Oh, jeez. Well, at least take your shirt off."

A few minutes later, they're under the blanket together, trying not to be incredibly awkward about it. Finn remembers something from earlier.

"Can I ask you a question?" Kurt nods, shivering a little.

"Did you... really used to, you know..." Kurt doesn't understand what Finn is getting at. "Cut yourself," he mumbles quietly, ashamed to say the words. They're taboo, one of those things people don't talk about. Kurt doesn't seem to mind.

"Yeah," he says. He looks down before he adds, "still do sometimes." Finn is taken aback, to say the least.

"What about scars? I just can't see you doing something that could cause permanent damage."

Kurt looks up at the cloudy sky. "I guess it's got something to do with that, actually. Sometimes I just feel like I don't deserve to be in one piece, and like I care too much about staying together. So I deconstruct myself where people can't see it."

Finn can't help asking, "Where?"

Kurt bites his lip before taking Finn's hand and sliding it along his cold thigh. Finn isn't sure what's going on until he realizes that there are several wide tracks and small tough patches of skin there. It's like reading the story of Kurt's pain in Braille.

"How many of these are because of me?" he murmurs.

"Not that many," Kurt says calmly. "Quite a few, yeah, but most of them are from intentional cruelty by football players."

Finn swallows before asking his next question. "And... how many are because of Puck?"

"On this leg, about as many as you. But you haven't asked about what's going on on the other leg yet," Kurt quietly tells him.

Finn doesn't ask but gently reaches over to find out. Kurt winces when Finn's hand encounters a harsh cut. "Holy shit," Finn says.

"About three-quarters of those are for every day I thought one of you two was going to die," he admits. "The other quarter are for the days since I knew... that one of you did," Kurt says. "And lately it seems like both of you did."

Finn has no idea what he's supposed to do or say. Kurt keeps talking, though, so Finn just keeps quiet. It's a different quiet than the one he's been adopting recently. It is not a quiet that blocks everything out, but a quiet that listens. "The last time it happened was a week or so before you guys left, a few days before he married Rachel, actually. All he said was 'this is the last time'. I thought I'd be okay with that, but now that he's gone, it's like I'm completely alone somehow. I don't know. I was completely alone anyway," he says wryly. "Even when you were drunk-gay, you liked Puck better than me. I'm just never good enough for anything. So I'm substandard and I'm damaged goods," he says, gesturing to his legs.

"I'm bad at talking, Kurt," Finn says. "I don't know what to say."

"So sing with me," Kurt says. "It's apparently the only thing we can do together without it turning into a complete disaster."

Finn isn't so sure this is a good idea. "What did you have in mind?" he asks anyway.

Kurt closes his eyes and just starts. "Do you know what's worth fighting for when it's not worth dying for? Does it take your breath away and you feel yourself suffocating? Does the pain weigh out the pride and you look a place to hide? Did someone break your heart inside? You're in ruins..."

Then their voices are blending together. It's something that hasn't happened in over four years, but it feels right, like something missing has come back. Like something has come home. "One, twenty-one guns. Lay down your arms, give up the fight. One, twenty-one guns. Throw up your arms into the sky... You and I."

Then Finn's voice is alone, unsure at first, recalling all the old solos he had in Glee. He was always so uncertain when he first began a new song. "When you're at the end of the road and you've lost all sense of control, and your thoughts have taken their toll... When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul, your faith walks on broken glass and the hangover doesn't pass. Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins..." His voice has become stronger, clearer.

"You're in ruins."

"You're in ruins...

"One, twenty-one guns. Lay down your arms, give up the fight. One, twenty-one guns. Throw up your arms into the sky... You and I."

"Did you try to live on your own when you've burnt down the house and home? Did you stand too close to the fire like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?" Finn can't keep the tears out of his eyes or his voice, which is shaking like a leaf. So is he, for that matter.

Kurt sings quietly for what may be the first time in his life. "When it's time to live and let die and you can't get another try... Something inside this heart has died. You're in ruins."

"One, twenty-one guns. Lay down your arms, give up the fight. One, twenty-one guns. Throw up your arms into the sky. One, twenty-one guns. Lay down your arms, give up the fight. One, twenty-one guns. Throw up your arms into the sky... You and I."

They're close to each other as their voices die out. Both of them are crying silently.

This time, when Kurt presses his lips to Finn's, Finn responds. He's not going to try to rationalize it this time. It's attraction, yes, but more than anything, it's closure. Finn's wet jeans are putting an incredible damper on everything. He starts to take them off. Kurt looks uncertain for a few moments but slides his boxers off. He climbs into Finn's lap, deepening the kiss and Finn moans into it. Kurt pulls away, clutches at Finn's dog tags, which he's still wearing, and runs his tongue along the chain. Finn reads the double meaning in the gesture and while it drives him crazy with desire, it breaks his heart.

Even if he could bring himself to look at a man like this ever again, it could never be Kurt. The past would hang over their heads too heavily, always ready to collapse on them. Part of him is picking itself up and putting itself together, but another part of him is shattering, and he suspects the same is happening for Kurt.

"I'm not sure how to do this," Finn whispers. It's like he's in high school again when Kurt slides down and places his lips around Finn's swollen member. Finn lets out a moan as Kurt's tongue gently swirls around him. He gasps when Kurt stops.

"Finn... I want... if it's the end, I want..." Finn reads the hesitation in Kurt's voice correctly. He lays down and pulls Kurt on top of him.

"Just tell me what to do," he says. Kurt whispers directions in his ear softly, like they're hard for him to say. They are – every word brings him closer to the end of something he's always wanted. He gasps with surprise when Finn presses a finger in and begins to slowly pump it in and out. Once he's ready, Finn adds another finger, then another.

"Okay," Kurt says, gasping. He's always been an accessory, the one on the side while Finn and Puck were doing these kinds of things, not that Finn knows this – though Kurt is sure he suspects. He's a little terrified when Finn cautiously removes his fingers and places his erection at Kurt's entrance.

He slowly presses himself down, sheathing Finn inside himself. He lets out a small noise of pain; Finn scans his face worriedly. "It's okay. Give me a second," Kurt says.

It takes more than a second, but Kurt starts moving. It feels strange but good. He forgets the "strange" part of it when one stroke presses into his prostate. He gasps and starts pushing a faster pace. Finn stops him, pulling out. Kurt can't figure out what's going on until Finn readjusts their positions so that Kurt is on his hands and knees and Finn is behind him. He reenters, managing to get deeper into the spot that makes Kurt writhe with pleasure like this. They're grasping frantically at the blanket beneath them and at each other with each thrust, accompanied by moans and soft noises of arousal and lust.

It somehow hurts as much as it pleases. It hurts somewhere too painful to name.

Then Kurt lets out a shriek and his muscles contract tightly around Finn, who lets out a soft "oh" that surprises Kurt.

They're messy, sweaty, and Kurt is too tired to care. The car pulls back up to the base of the hill. Kurt moves to pull on his wet clothes, but Finn stops him. He picks up their clothes and wraps them both in the blanket.

They walk down the hill. Ann is wordlessly waiting for them with a very small, very soft smile on her face. She opens the car door for them and they slide in. She closes it and gets back into the driver's seat, pulling away from oblivion or wherever it is they are.

"So I guess you're leaving tomorrow?" Kurt asks.

It feels like the ending of something.

But for some reason, it also feels like a beginning.

"I was going to leave tonight, actually," Finn says.

Kurt has only the briefest flicker of hurt on his face before he chokes out, "Okay."

"But," Finn continues, "I changed my mind."

Kurt looks at him, his eyes full of questions. Finn just pulls Kurt closer to him as Ann's smile grows in the rearview mirror. They drive in silence until they get home (and Finn is surprised to think of it as such). Kurt sighs. "I really need a shower," he says, "but I'm so freakin' tired."

Finn feels slightly delusional as he grins and asks Kurt, "would it make it less annoying if I came in and washed your hair for you?"

Kurt looks at him like he's grown a second head. "There's something different about you and I just can't put my finger on it," he deadpans. Then he's looking at Finn with extreme curiosity. "You're smiling."

Finn is surprised to realize he is. "Wow, that's new," he says. "Blame it on the complete exhaustion."

"Okay, I will," Kurt says, leading him to the shower. They climb in together, both practically falling asleep. They quickly realize they're just way too tired to fool around and clean up as fast as they can. Kurt doesn't even wash his hair, to Finn's amazement.

"It's been a really long day," Kurt sighs, struggling to stay vertical.

"It's not even ten and you're falling asleep, you big baby," Finn yawns.

"Really?" Kurt says.

"Mmhmm," Finn hums, wrapping his arms around Kurt.

Kurt turns around to look at him. "What is going on here, Finn?" It's a no-nonsense tone that sobers Finn up immediately.

He seems to be searching for his answer in the bathroom tile. "It's the only thing that's felt real since Puck died," he says matter-of-factly, with only the slightest trace of pain in his voice as he says those words for the first time. "It's the only time I've done that and it felt real," he says, his voice softening.

Kurt's pressing a finger to Finn's lips to quiet him after that. "That's enough," he says, replacing the finger with his lips.

They last about two seconds after they're settled into bed before sleep overtakes them. Ann is still in the living room, back to reading the book she was reading when Finn first woke up in this apartment. It is Atlas Shrugged.

Finn tried to watch Kurt and Ann in the play they did, but the blood and guts made him too sick. He's still got a long way to go. It's a few days before he's supposed to leave (the doctor claims he's just got a minor anxiety disorder and is fine to go back to duty) and somehow, Ann has pulled a miracle out of her back pocket. Kurt and Finn are driving back to Lima, jittery and nervous.

"Will we even recognize them?" Kurt wonders. Finn shrugs.

They pull up to the cemetery. Mike and Matt are grinning and talking with Artie, of all people, who is holding Tina's hand again. Mr. Schue's muffler falls off as he pulls in next to them. Santana looks bored, but she's never been good at pretending. Brittany talks excitedly about her job at the zoo to Mercedes, who is nodding and smiling and looking for Kurt. She's made it to Broadway, something she and Kurt dreamed of. Quinn is holding Rachel's hand, and Rachel is holding an impossibly tiny baby. "He just couldn't wait to get here," Rachel says softly, by way of explaining the early arrival.

"Are we all here?" Mr. Schuester asks.

"No, not quite," says a soft, female voice. "This is Beth," Ms. Corcoran says. "Quinn called me. I thought she should say goodbye to her father." Beth looks almost exactly like Quinn, except for the eyes. They're a deep, warm brown. Puck's eyes.

No one's sure how much longer they'll make it without crying, so Kurt starts singing, just like Ann planned when she looked up and called every member of the club.

"Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes."

Everyone joins in smoothly. "Five hundred, twenty-five thousand moments so dear. Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes how do you measure a year in the life?

"How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love. Seasons of love."

Rachel takes over. "Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. Five hundred twenty-five thousand journeys to plan. Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes – how do you measure the life of a woman or a man?"

Finn isn't sure he can do this at first, but his voice rings out with clarity. "In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or the way that she died."

The other members join back in. "It's time now to sing out though the story never ends. Let's celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends. Remember the love. Remember the love. Seasons of love..."

As this is sung, Beth tugs on Rachel's sleeve. Rachel bends down so the little girl can whisper in her ear. She nods.

Instead of Rachel, tiny little Beth sings the last solo. Her voice doesn't have the strength of the adults, but it's a clear, tiny little bell ringing through the sound of their harmony. "Oh, you got to, got to remember the love! You know that love is a gift from up above. Share love, give love, spread love... Measure, measure your life in love..."

No one can stop crying and hugging each other as Beth's note finally falls. Good training paired with great genes makes an argument for both nature and nurture today.

Good things don't last forever, though. The former Glee Club members quickly beg off and Kurt and Finn are left there alone, staring at the headstone that reads "Noah 'Puck' Puckerman".

"I don't want you to go," Kurt says quietly.

Finn hears the anxiety in Kurt's voice. He just laughs.

"Why are you laughing? It's not funny," Kurt says indignantly.

"Yes, it is," Finn smiles. "I won't be gone for long. In fact, I'll be back faster than you can say 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell."


End file.
